In the Northern Hemisphere, spring arrives as a welcome change after winter’s darkness, cold, and stillness. As the sun’s path shifts northward, nature awakens from its deep winter sleep. A new season of rebirth and renewal begins, prompting seasonal birds to migrate to their summer destinations, trees to bud, and plants like pussy willows, daffodils, and crocuses to emerge from the soil. Henderson’s lake ice melts away, the pair of Canadian Geese return to start their family, the earth warms, march winds blow, and farmers anxiously wait to work their fields. And people from around the area flock to Henderson for Smorgasboard to load up on carbs!
Spring represents more than the physical renewal of nature and the effort required to nurture it; it also serves as a reminder to believers of the spiritual renewal God offers, inviting us to share in it. Spring encourages us to begin anew, release old habits and start new ones, and to re-engage God’s plan for personal and spiritual growth. Spring offers a time to contemplate the hope and joy that faith brings, echoing the vibrant rebirth of nature after winter.
The Scriptures point to renewal and new beginnings. Jeremiah and Ezekiel reveal God’s plan to establish a new covenant—one that would turn hearts of stone into flesh animated by a new spirit (Jer 31:31, Ezek 11:19, 36:26). Christ’s death and resurrection inaugurated that covenant. As believers, we live in that newness.
Jesus was and is the epitome of announcing new things: He told Nicodemus that he must be born again (Jn 3:3). He gave his disciples a new command: to love one another as he had loved them (Jn 13:34). The kingdom He came to establish was illustrated by new wine in new wineskins (Matt 9:17). Jesus’ life and mission can’t be confined to old forms and ways.
Paul, whose heart was radically renewed, exhorts his readers to experience the daily renewal offered by the Spirit, despite our outward decay (2 Cor 4:16-18). This renewal happens when we open ourselves to transformation by renewing our minds—an act carried out by the Spirit through His Word (Rom 12:2).
The Bible ends with God making all things new (Rev 21:1, 5). The very end of history is marked by a new beginning—a new heaven and a new earth bejeweled by a new Jerusalem in which God and the redeemed live in an unmatched new intimate relationship.
King David urges us to “sing to the Lord a new song . . . and shout for joy.” The Psalmist proclaims, “Sing to the Lord a new song, for He has done marvelous things: His right hand and his holy arm have worked salvation for him” (Ps 98:1). God’s redemptive work in our lives demands a new song.
The idea of a “new song” should deeply resonate with us. These songs arise from fresh encounters with God that move us and evoke awe. At first, we might be speechless, but eventually, we find words to articulate our feelings and insights. A fresh testimony arises. A new song is born. An old song no longer captures the moment. For example, when the Israelites crossed the Red Sea on dry ground and watched Pharaoh’s army drown as the waters swept over them, Moses and Miriam composed new songs to commemorate this awe-inspiring event (Ex 15).
As an aside, it’s this very process that should trouble us about the church’s music-worship divide. The old hymns we cherish were once new compositions born of fresh spiritual encounters of their time. We sing these songs to remember and honor those experiences because they still resonate with meaning. However, there’s an expectation that God’s people will continue to have new encounters with Him, inspiring new songs. Without this, we might question whether God is even active today—whether we are truly allowing Him to work within us in ways that demand faith and lead to moving, awe-inspiring acts. Where there are no new songs, there appear to be no fresh experiences with God. Let’s consider this.
So, what’s new with you? What new experience have you had with God that could inspire a new song? A fresh testimony? A willingness to let go of an old habit? A passion to serve God in a new way? An interest in starting up or renewing a personal relationship? A deeper devotion to worship and praise?
I’m afraid that, for some, faith has grown stale; nothing new of spiritual consequence has happened in years. We keep retelling the same stories from 5, 10, 20, even 40 or 50 years ago. We trudge through the same traditions, rumble down the same ruts, and sing the same songs —and then tell ourselves that we’re simply being “faithful.”
I’m all for being faithful, but is that really the whole truth? Have we ever wondered why we do this? Does this sound like new wine in new wineskins? Could we compose a new song with this regimen? It’s as if we’re hibernating in a cave, trying to live off the fat stored from a past season of spiritual foraging. It’s like a vehicle lurching forward erratically, choking and sputtering. There’s plenty of noise and smoke, but not enough power to get anywhere fast! It’s running on old fuel. Have we ever wondered if there is something more to our relationship with God?
Spring is already shouting that new life is emerging. Our lawns will soon turn green; early-spring plants are pushing through the warming soil; robins are building nests; Canadian geese are honking overhead; and elm trees are forming buds. Tickets are being sold for Smorgasboard. Does my spiritual life mirror these realities? Am I cooperating with God’s plan to make all things new?
